Arise Sir Jackson
by ajfankeith
Summary: Sequel to 'The Livesy-Walsh Diaries'. A couple of years have passed and Aaron and Jackson's son is now eight years old. Life is good, until an unwelcome face appears!
1. Chapter 1

Arise, Sir Jackson – Chapter 1

_-O-_

_DISCLAIMER: I am not connected to Emmerdale and its characters, which belong to ITV_

_-O-_

"How's Aaron?" Brett had a concerned look on his face as he spoke to Jackson while they sat waiting in the green room at the TV studios. They were both due to appear on 'The Harvey Haynes Hour', a big Saturday night celebrity chat show.

"He's over the worst of it now, I think," Jackson smiled at his friend, "I kept taking the piss about it being 'man-flu', but he really does have the flu, bless him. I left him tucked up in bed."

"You should have cancelled tonight's TV appearance and stopped at home to give him some comfort."

"Nah, he'll be OK. In any case, he's got Polly and Richard fussing over him," Jackson paused for a moment and then continued with a smirk playing around his lips, "He's a bigger baby than Jaron when he's ill!"

"Aww!" Brett pouted, "So you've got two eight-year-olds in the house then."

Jackson chuckled, "I think Jaron's a bit older, at least in mental age!"

"Just as well we've been friends for all these years: otherwise I'd think you were being serious."

Jackson looked pensive, "Talking of which, in all the years we _have_ known each other, I don't think we've ever appeared on the same chat show before."

"You're right! Mind you, we've never had a reason to appear at the same time, have we?" it was Brett's turn to look pensive, "It just so happens that your new TV show and my new cookbook have coincided this time."

"Yeah, true, I'm glad you're more relaxed about these TV chats now. When I think back to how you were when I first knew you, you've changed out of all recognition."

Brett knew what Jackson was referring to, "Yeah, I know what you mean, although the stammer still surfaces in times of crisis. They say it never goes away completely."

"Well, I wouldn't know you used to have one now, anyway," Jackson smiled encouragingly at Brett.

"Thanks mate. I still have my angels watching over me," Brett returned his friend's smile.

Just then, a member of the production team put his head round the door, "Sir Jackson Livesy-Walsh, Mr Frost, five minutes to go, gentlemen. If you follow me I'll show you to your positions so that you can walk on when Harvey Haynes announces you.

Both Jackson and Brett rose to their feet.

"It still catches me by surprise sometimes, when someone calls me 'Sir Jackson'."

Brett chuckled, "I'll have to call you 'my lord' to get you acclimatised!"

Jackson groaned, "You're as bad as Aaron!"

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When Jackson arrived back home, he immediately went to check on his husband, "How's the invalid?" he asked as he entered the bedroom.

Aaron looked pale, although he had perked up a bit since Jackson last saw him, "I'm feeling a bit better now. I saw you on TV with Brett, he made me laugh, calling you 'my lord'."

"I knew he would...though I think he only did it for your benefit," Jackson moved to kiss Aaron but his husband jerked his head back.

"Don't come near me!" Aaron warned him, "I don't want you catching what I've got."

"I'll be OK," Jackson reassured him, "I've had a flu jab, remember."

"I hate needles, me," Aaron grimaced, "Didn't you feel a prick?"

"There wasn't time for any funny business and anyway, it was a female nurse!" Jackson had a cheeky smirk on his face.

Aaron was still grimacing, "Have you borrowed that joke book from the library again?"

"Just part of my natural charm and humour!" Jackson chuckled.

"Save that for your adoring public," Aaron rolled his eyes skyward, "Anyway, when does this 'Builders – The Rivals' show start? What was it about again?"

"It starts next week...that's why I was plugging it on the air tonight. Teams of construction workers renovate identical houses and the public will vote for the one they like best. You obviously weren't paying much attention."

"I'm not well!" Aaron pouted.

"Awww!" Jackson pursed his lips, "Why don't you get some sleep, baby, you'll feel better in the morning."

Aaron knew that, underneath all the banter, his husband had his best interests at heart. Their love for each other never diminished over time. If anything, it grew stronger with each passing day. "I am pretty tired as it happens...I think I'll get my head down."

"Can I get you anything?" Jackson looked fondly at his life partner.

"No thanks, babe. Richard has been looking after me: I think Tim is getting jealous with all the time he's been spending with me!"

"I'm sure Tim must think he's got real competition," Jackson's smirk returned, "A guy with a big red nose, puffy eyes and hacking cough...what a catch!"

Aaron sneered, "Just watch it, Livesy-Walsh!"

Jackson adopted a haughty look, "SIR Livesy-Walsh, if you don't mind!"

"You may be a Sir, but you're still a total div!" Aaron could not resist a wind up, even in his sorrowful state.

"See, you're feeling better already!" Jackson had to have the last word.

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"Hi gorgeous!" Mason greeted his husband with a kiss as Brett arrived back from the TV studio.

"Hi, my little cup-cake, did you miss me?" Brett smiled at his other half.

"Well, I did miss you in person, though I did catch you on TV earlier. How's Jackson? He looked well."

"Yeah, he's fine, though Aaron's got a dose of the flu."

"Oh, poor Aaron," Mason and Aaron were old sparring partners, but their constant attempts to wind each other up were all part of a deeply held affection: a friendship that had stood the test of time, "I'll have to pop round and see him in a couple of days."

"You really care about him, don't you?"

"Of course I do!" Mason had an earnest look on his face, "I know we lark about and take digs at each other, but he once saved your life and I'll always be grateful to him for that, otherwise we never would have met."

"...and that was down to Jackson. My 'angels' will always have a special place in my heart."

"You great soft lump!" Mason smiled at his husband adoringly. Like Aaron and Jackson, they were more loved-up than ever. Their relationship mirrored Aaron and Jackson's in every way.

Mason suddenly looked pensive, "So, have you thought any more about little Joel?"

Joel was a four-year-old boy who had come to their attention via the 'Baby Bones' charity which Aaron and Jackson had originally set up. He was a lovely little lad, with unruly dark curly hair and sparkling blue eyes and he had touched their hearts when they discovered that he was an orphan and suffered from spinal problems. Both Brett and Mason had fallen for the little mite and were keen to give him a good home.

"I've thought about little else," Brett looked pensive, "The thing is, we'd probably need a nanny to look after him properly."

"I'm sure we could arrange that...Aaron and Jackson have always managed with Polly looking after Jaron."

"Yeah, but Jaron's not disabled, is he?"

Mason looked a little shocked, "What difference does that make?"

Brett feared that Mason might have taken his remark the wrong way, "Don't get the idea that I'm against it: caring for a disabled child I mean. You know that I'm all for it. I'm just concerned that it's probably more difficult and time-consuming than bringing up an able-bodied kid, that's all."

Mason took Brett's hands in his own, "I know you're all for it, I know you inside out and you're the same caring, compassionate man that I married. Aaron and Jackson coped brilliantly with little Ben, before they had Jaron. You've got so much to give a child, babe...so much love."

Brett looked at Mason adoringly, "So have you, my special man. Yeah, you're right, that little lad needs our help and if our friends can do it, then so can we."

"Let's set the ball rolling tomorrow then, shall we?" Mason asked and they sealed it with a kiss.

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Next morning, Aaron was feeling much better and, still in his dressing gown, he sat in the dining room with his husband. He decided to try a bit of breakfast and Richard did the honours as usual, serving up toast and Aaron's favourite marmalade, although Aaron's taste-buds were still refusing to co-operate and he felt like he was chewing a piece of mattress with a sticky orangey coating! As for the drink of tea, although it was of the finest quality, dishwater would have been no different to Aaron's taste.

"Brett's just texted me," Jackson announced, "Last night at the studios, he was banging on about that little boy they saw a couple of weeks ago at the clinic. Seems they've decided to adopt, I'm so pleased."

"Yes, I remember," Aaron had a misty-eyed look, "Joel wasn't it? He was as cute as a button. He may be disabled, but he ran Mason ragged! He couldn't keep up with him in that wheelchair...I bet he'll be a handful when they get him home."

"Yeah..._when_!" Jackson looked lost in his own thoughts, "You know how long the adoption process takes! The kid will probably be growing a beard before they can get custody."

"Brett's a multi-millionaire," Aaron stated, matter-of-factly, "He should be able to pick the lad up in no time."

Jackson chuckled, "It's not like going to pick up a new car at the showroom, babe, they have to look into your background and see if you would make suitable parents. Plus, it is still tougher for gay couples to adopt, even in these enlightened times."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right, as usual!" Aaron grimaced, "I tend to forget I married the most sensible, responsible bloke on the planet!"

"I got a knighthood, not a sainthood!"

Aaron's grimace turned to a smile, "You'll always be a saint to me...only a saint would put up with me."

"True," Jackson smirked, "I wonder if the Pope needs any assistance this week?"

Aaron laughed but started coughing: a hacking cough that racked his body.

"Poor baby!" Jackson looked at his husband with concern in his eyes: he hated to see him suffer in any way.

Aaron took a swig of tea, "Urrggh, I wish I could taste things properly."

"You will, give it a couple of days and you'll be as right as rain."

"A couple of days? I'll be lucky if I live that long."

Jackson smiled, "You'll survive!" he said, looking adoringly at his one and only.

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A week later, a phone call came out of the blue. Aaron was at his main dealership in Leeds, interviewing for an assistant manager for a new branch in Bradford, when a worried-sounding Polly came on the line.

"It's Jaron," Polly sounded upset and gabbled quickly, "They've taken him to Hotten General. He was playing in the garden with Aston. I don't know what they were doing, but Jaron's unconscious. At least the ambulance came quickly."

Aaron hurriedly arranged for Brian, his garage manager, to handle the rest of the interviews by himself while he rushed off to the hospital. He tried calling Jackson on his mobile, but it went to voicemail as expected as his husband was tied up with his TV work. Aaron was worried sick, he loved his son so much and could not bear the thought of something bad happening to him. On arrival at the hospital, he was directed to the private ward that he and Jackson subscribed to. The doctor, a young dark-haired man called Ted Ross, ushered him into a visitor's waiting room. Also waiting anxiously for news were Polly along with Jaron's best friend Aston and his mother, Tina. Aaron acknowledged them as the doctor began to speak.

"Please don't concern yourself, Mr Livesy-Walsh," Ted could see how agitated Aaron looked, "Jaron's in safe hands. He hit his head when he fell out of a tree and knocked himself out. We're just doing a brain scan to make sure everything's in order, but it's unlikely that he's done too much damage. Kids are pretty resilient to falls."

Aaron tried to take comfort from Ted's words, but he was still on tenterhooks.


	2. Chapter 2

Arise, Sir Jackson – Chapter 2

_-O-_

_DISCLAIMER: I am not connected to Emmerdale and its characters, which belong to ITV_

_-O-_

Hazel came rushing into the room as if the devil himself was chasing her, "Where is he? Can I see him? Is he OK?"

"Whoa, slow down Hazel," Aaron took hold of her, as much to stop her forward momentum as anything, "he's having a scan but the doctor says he doesn't look too bad."

"I've been going out of my mind since I heard the news," Hazel still looked worried, "I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to my little Jam-Jar," she loved using her pet name for her grandson.

Hazel turned her attention to Aston, "What happened? What were you doing?"

Aston and Jaron had been friends since they started school together at five years old. He was a good-looking kid, with masses of dark curls on his head, brown eyes and a coffee-coloured skin, "We were playing cowboys and Indians," Aston looked upset and his mother Tina put a comforting hand on his arm, "He climbed that old tree near the summerhouse, but I think a branch snapped and he just tumbled out of it. It wasn't my fault!" Aston looked as if he would burst into tears any minute.

Hazel crouched down and looked at Aston, "No-one's blaming you, sweetheart, I know it was an accident, I just wanted to know how it happened...that's all."

Hazel stood up again and addressed Aaron, "Where's Jackson? Why isn't he here?"

"I've tried to get hold of him," Aaron replied, "I've left messages on his voicemail. I know he's busy filming today so I don't know when he'll get a break."

Almost in answer to his question, Aaron's mobile rang and he saw that his husband was calling him, "Hello babe," he answered.

"What's happened to our son?" Jackson's voice sounded panic-stricken, "Is he OK? Please tell me that he's alright!"

"Calm down Jay, he's not badly hurt, not according to the doctor, anyway."

"I'm finished here for the day, so I'll be there as soon as I can."

"OK, babe, you drive safely now," Aaron looked at Hazel, "He's on his way."

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The doctor had allowed Aaron and Jackson to sit with Jaron. Hazel, Aston and Tina had all been in to see the patient, but the doctor did not want too many people crowding him, so just his parents remained.

"You'll have a big bump on your head," Aaron smiled at his son, "I bet _real_ cowboys don't get impressive bumps like that."

"Does that mean I can have some more ice cream?" Jaron asked, hopefully.

Jackson sighed, "You're as bad as Daddy, always thinking of your stomach."

Aaron looked at Jackson with a stern expression on his face, although he was teasing him as usual, "Our son can have some ice cream if he wants...he's been in the wars."

"Daddy says I can have some," Jaron savoured his moment of triumph.

"But, only if you're a good boy," Jackson smiled at his offspring.

"Oh, please Pop!" Jaron had a pleading look on his face. He always distinguished Aaron from Jackson by calling one 'Daddy' and the other one 'Pop'.

Jackson could never refuse his son when he had that look on his face: the expression was so much like Aaron's that it was uncanny. Jackson loved Aaron with all his heart and soul and his 'mini-me' was bound to twist him round his little finger in a similar fashion.

"Alright," Jackson gently stroked Jaron's cheek with his hand, "But only if the doctor says it's OK."

"When can I come home?" Jaron asked.

Aaron took his son's hand in his own, "You can come home tomorrow: the doctor wants to keep an eye on you tonight. You're a very special boy and they need to make sure that you are better."

Just then, the door opened and Brett and Mason appeared, "We just came to see if there's anything we can do, the doctor said we could come in for a couple of minutes."

"It's good of you to visit," Jackson stood up to allow Brett and Mason to get to the side of the bed.

Brett looked at Jaron, "How are you feeling, tiger?"

Jaron was lapping up all the attention, "I've got a big bump, uncle Brett...look!" he pointed at his head.

"Wow! They should give you a medal for bravery!" Mason joked.

"Never mind the medal," Aaron said, "Our boy just wants an endless supply of ice cream."

"Ice cream, eh?" Brett chuckled, "Well, when you're better, you'll have to come over and have some of my special home-made choc and mint ice cream."

"Wow! Super!" Jaron's eyes lit up, making the four men laugh.

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When they arrived home from visiting Jaron in the hospital, Brett and Mason picked up the post from the doormat and sat in their living room, reading their correspondence.

"There's one here from the adoption people," Brett waved the letter at Mason, "They want us to make an appointment with them to discuss Joel."

"They certainly make a meal of it, don't they?" Mason frowned.

"Well, they have to make sure we're suitable candidates." Brett replied.

"What? We haven't grown two heads or got any convictions for mass murder?" Mason was being his sarcastic best.

"I suppose they need to be thorough," Brett tried to see it from the adoption authority's point of view, as always.

"Yeah, I suppose!" Mason did not sound totally convinced.

Brett looked a little pensive and then spoke again, "Thinking about what's just happened to Jaron, I expect we've got all that sort of thing to look forward to, if they decide to let us adopt Joel."

"Yeah, the joys of being a parent!"

"It's all part of it," Brett was being pragmatic, "I'm sure the joys outweigh the sorrows. I bet Aaron and Jackson wouldn't be without young Jaron, even at times like these."

"Yeah, you can see the love in their eyes when they look at their son. That's something I'd like to experience."

Brett crossed over to Mason and drew him into a hug, "...and you will. I know all the form-filling and interviews are a pain, but it will all be worth it in the end."

Mason kissed the love of his life, "C'mon, let's get to bed and get some sleep...while we still can!"

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The next day, Jaron was released from hospital and Aaron and Jackson could not be happier that he was home again, where he belonged. But, he was under strict instructions not to go climbing any more trees for the foreseeable future!

After their son was tucked up in bed, the couple relaxed together on their sofa.

"I wish you didn't have to go to London tomorrow," Aaron gazed into his husband's big brown eyes.

"Yeah, I know, I don't like spending a night away from you, either. What makes it worse is that the function that I'm going to will be as boring as hell!"

"Can't you get out of it?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I've got to give a little speech during the evening. Who'd be a knight of the realm eh?"

"You're just too important, that's your trouble!" Aaron had a smirk on his face that told Jackson that he was being wound up, as usual. He ignored Aaron's attempts to tease him and kissed him passionately on the lips.

"What's that for?" Aaron looked puzzled.

"No reason...except I won't be able to do that tomorrow night with you being here and me being in a hotel in London."

"Will you miss me?"

"You know I will, but it is only for one night."

Aaron stood up and took Jackson's hand, "Arise, Sir Jackson, its past your bedtime."

"I'll have to have extra tonight, to make up for tomorrow."

"Extra what?"

Jackson's knowing glance towards his husband made it unnecessary for him to give a spoken answer.

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As he had predicted, Jackson found the function that he was attending completely uninteresting. He made his speech during the evening, which seemed to go down well with the assembled dignitaries, but then had to sit though other people's speeches and was in danger of falling asleep, face down, into the soufflé on the table in front of him.

When the evening was finally and thankfully drawing to a close, Jackson pulled out his mobile phone but found that the battery was flat.

"Problem?" Lady Elizabeth Grainger, one of his companions at his table, looked at him with a concerned frown.

"I was going to ring Aaron," Jackson explained, "But my mobile needs charging, I forgot to do it this morning as I was hurrying to catch the train."

Lady Elizabeth was an acquaintance that Jackson had met several times and she knew that he was referring to his husband, "Here, use mine," she offered Jackson her own mobile phone.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes...I take it Aaron's not in Australia!"

"No," Jackson laughed, "Yorkshire's not quite as far as that."

Aaron did not recognise the number that flashed up on his phone, "Hello?"

"Hi gorgeous! It's me!"

"Hello _me_," Aaron chuckled, "What's happened to your phone?"

"Dead battery...I'll have to charge it when I get to the hotel. Elizabeth kindly leant me hers so I could give you a quick call."

"You're not borrowing the Queen's phone are you?" Aaron could not resist teasing his husband.

"NO! You know Lady Elizabeth Grainger, I introduced you once."

Aaron let that one pass, "How did the speech go?"

"It was OK, I'm just going to call for a cab in a minute, so I thought I'd ring you first as I know you want to turn in early as you've got to be at the opening of your new garage in Bradford tomorrow. So I thought that ringing you from the hotel later would be too late, if you see what I mean."

"Aww, you're so thoughtful babe," Aaron pouted, "I'd ask you to marry me if you weren't already taken."

"I'd accept, taken or not. Listen, I don't want to run up Elizabeth's bill, so I'll say goodnight. Love you, gorgeous."

"Love you too, goodnight baby."

Jackson handed the phone back to Elizabeth, with his thanks. He then walked to the foyer of the meeting hall and asked the concierge to order a taxi.

The concierge, a middle-aged man with a completely bald head, dialled the taxi company and then spoke, "The taxi will be here in a few minutes, Sir Jackson, if you'd like to wait near the entrance...you'll see it pull up in the road outside. Just give your name to the driver to confirm that it is your cab."

"Thank you," Jackson smiled at the man and went to stand by the entrance doors.

Sure enough, a taxi arrived and Jackson opened the rear door and climbed in, "Livesy-Walsh?" he asked of the driver.

"Yes," the driver replied.

Jackson thought that he had probably found the least chatty taxi driver in London. He could not see him clearly from the back of the cab. He was wearing a flat cap and appeared to be quite young, but it was too dark to make out any distinguishing features.

"The Temple Mount Hotel, please," Jackson told the driver where he wished to go.

Without another word, the driver set off down the street. After a while, they seemed to be heading away from the city buildings and into a more countrified setting. Jackson started to become concerned, "Are we headed the right way?" he asked.

"Yes, I know a shortcut," the driver replied. Jackson thought he recognised the voice, but could not place it.

Still, the driver continued on into an ever more secluded district.

"I thought we would have been there by now," Jackson remarked.

There was silence.

"Excuse me, I'm talking to you!" Jackson was starting to get a bit panicky. He pulled at the door handle but the driver had locked him in.

Suddenly, in a deserted, run-down area, the driver brought the cab to an abrupt halt.

Nothing could have prepared Jackson for the shock he received when the driver turned around and stared at him. It was a face that haunted all his nightmares: Dean O'Riordan!


	3. Chapter 3

Arise, Sir Jackson – Chapter 3

_-O-_

_DISCLAIMER: I am not connected to Emmerdale and its characters, which belong to ITV_

_-O-_

Jackson was speechless!

"I think we've got some unfinished business, don't you?" O'Riordan had an evil smirk on his face.

Jackson tried to compose himself, "I thought you were still in prison," he gasped.

"Done my time...well, got parole, time off for good behaviour and all that."

"Well, the parole board won't take kindly to you kidnapping me again, will they?"

O'Riordan sneered, "They'll have to catch me first. Anyway, you've got to pay for what you did to me!"

"What I did to YOU?" Jackson spluttered in disbelief, "Do you have any idea how you nearly ruined my life? You nearly drove a wedge between me and my husband...I had to have counselling and everything..."

"Shut the fuck up!" O'Riordan snapped, "You've done alright for yourself, Lord High-and-Mighty! Me? I've been banged up with a load of hard cases. Do you know what they do to 'pretty boys' in a place like that? I was their slave...their bitch! It's all your fault and...now you must pay!"

Jackson feared that O'Riordan might threaten to rape him again, but he sensed that the madman had something else on his agenda this time...revenge!

Jackson was thinking on his feet, "Look, if you let me go, I won't say anything. Just take me to my hotel and I'll keep quiet about it."

O'Riordan had the same crazed look in his eyes that Jackson had seen before, "Let you go? No chance! I've waited years for this moment. When the cab firm I work for took the call, I couldn't believe it...I even swapped the fare with another driver so that I could pick you up. We're going into that old warehouse over there and then I'm going to give you what's coming to you."

O'Riordan climbed out of the taxi and unlocked the rear door. He took hold of Jackson's arm and dragged him out. Jackson struggled but he quickly understood the phrase 'strength of a madman' as he was no match for O'Riordan. An old lamplight illuminated the warehouse with a dim, ghostly glow. The lunatic pushed Jackson into the building: the place had been deserted for some time and was in a state of decay, with rubbish strewn around, graffiti covering the walls and all the window glass broken. O'Riordan used a length of rope to tie Jackson's hands behind his back and pushed him down so that his back was against a wall, making him sit on the dirty, cold concrete floor. He then bound Jackson's ankles together with another piece of rope and put tape across his mouth.

"There, now we'll see who's the big man...won't we?" O'Riordan had a cold, unfeeling look in his clear, grey eyes.

Jackson was suddenly aware that O'Riordan had pulled out a knife! He looked on in horror as the madman came towards him, brandishing the weapon.

"Let's see if your darling husband still fancies you when you've got scars all over your face!" O'Riordan waved the blade near Jackson's cheeks and he flinched, expecting to feel the sting of cold steel against his skin. Then, suddenly, the radio in the taxi outside burst into life: obviously the cab firm were trying to get hold of O'Riordan, who turned and walked away to answer the call.

Jackson breathed a sigh of relief. He tried to free himself while O'Riordan was otherwise engaged, but the ropes were too tight. He wriggled around but all to no avail. Then he heard the footsteps of his tormentor approaching him again.

"We'll have to put this on ice," O'Riordan was still waving the knife around, "I've got to go back to the cab office, or they'll become suspicious. Make yourself comfortable," he sneered, "I'll be back later."

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Aaron stirred and looked at the clock. The alarm was due to go off any second, but he cancelled it as he was now wide awake. He checked his phone, but there was no message from Jackson. He thought it a bit odd, but did not worry unduly as he knew that Jackson's mobile had a flat battery and he surmised that maybe he had not had the opportunity to charge it. He jumped out of bed and headed for the shower as he needed to get ready to go into Bradford for the opening of his new car dealership. He was likely to be busy all day and that would take his mind off his husband for a while.

The opening was a big success. Aaron sometimes had to pinch himself when he thought about how far he had come in his life: car dealerships in Hotten, Leeds and now Bradford. Once the cutting of the ceremonial tape had been carried out, Aaron spent most of the day chatting to prospective car buyers in the smart new showroom. Aaron's company were holding a special sales event as it was the grand opening day and business was brisk. Aaron also visited the workshop and spent some time with the mechanics and he realised that he was still more at home in this sort of environment, rather than the 'posh' surroundings of the showroom. But, as managing director of the company, he needed to be up to speed with car sales and staff appraisals as well as servicing, so he knew that he needed to show his face not only in the workshops, but also in the offices and sales area.

The day whizzed past and Aaron eventually had time to think about Jackson again. He became slightly concerned when he realised that there was still no message from him. However, he just thought that his husband was probably on the train by now and he would doubtless be waiting for him when he arrived home later.

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Jackson had spent the night on the cold floor of the derelict warehouse, He was tired, hungry, and would do anything just to be able to have a wash and brush up. He could not understand why O'Riordan had not returned, but was very relieved that he had not. He thought to himself that, maybe, the madman had just wanted to frighten him. The lamplight, such as it was, had extinguished and the sun was rising, flooding the filthy old building with natural daylight. Jackson noticed a broken bottle near his legs and he manoeuvred into a position where he could get the rope around his feet against the jagged edge of the glass. After a bit of an effort, he managed to cut through the rope! He got himself into a standing position and then set about the tricky task of cutting through the rope around his wrists, behind his back. It wasn't easy and he cut himself a couple of times, but eventually managed to free his hands. He then ripped the sticky tape away from his mouth. Jubilant, he walked out of the warehouse to be greeted by a wasteland of shrub and rubbish: he was obviously in an old railway goods yard as there was still evidence of some ancient tracks visible through the long grass. Although there was no sign of life nearby, he could hear road traffic in the distance and could see a flyover about half a mile away, so he decided to head in that direction in the hopes of getting back to civilisation.

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After Aaron arrived home, he saw that he had a message on the home answer-phone. He played it back and a chill ran down his spine. "Hi babe, it's me. I know you are in Bradford today and you've got your mobile switched off. Now, don't worry, but I'm just letting you know that I'm in hospital in London. When you get this, can you give me a ring on my mobile, it's charged up now. I'll explain everything then. Love you."

Aaron could not believe it. Jackson was in hospital and he had not known anything about it. He quickly dialled his husband's number.

"Why didn't you ring the garage in Bradford...you are an idiot!"

"Thanks, I love you too!" was Jackson's sarcastic reply.

"You know what I mean. If you're in some sort of trouble, I want to know, straight away!"

"I didn't want to spoil your big day. Now, promise you're not going to go off on one!"

"How do you mean? What is it Jackson? What's wrong?"

"I ordered a taxi last night, like I told you, but you'll never guess who was driving it!"

Aaron was getting frustrated, "Will you stop playing games and tell me what's happening?"

"I'm getting to that...it was O'Riordan!"

The name hit Aaron like a ton of bricks, "O'RIORDAN! Driving the taxi? Oh my God! I thought he was still locked up. Jackson, are you alright...if he's hurt you, I'll murder the worthless little piece of shit!"

"I said not to go off on one, OK? He kidnapped me and tied me up in an old warehouse, but I escaped."

"I just don't believe this, it just isn't happening," Aaron's voice began to tremble, "So, why are you in hospital?"

"I cut myself on an old broken bottle. I called into an A&E department and they cleaned me up and gave me a tetanus jab, but they are concerned about my blood pressure so they want to keep me in for observation."

"Right, tell me which hospital you're in and I'll come straight down on the train. No arguments!"

Jackson knew that there was no point in trying to stop Aaron when he was in this mood. In any case, he really wanted to see the love of his life as soon as possible.

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Aaron took a cab from Euston station and made his way to Jackson's ward as soon as the taxi dropped him off at the hospital. Jackson was sitting in a chair by the bed in a private ward and stood up when his husband walked in. Aaron flung his arms around Jackson and kissed him, concern etched into his features, "Oh, my baby! What has that scumbag done to you? He didn't...?"

Jackson picked up on Aaron's meaning without him having to say the words, "No, he didn't, not this time. He wanted to cut me: he blames me for putting him in prison. Luckily, he got called away by his cab firm and didn't come back. I think maybe he just wanted to put the wind up me."

"That little, low-life piece of filth! You've told the police, haven't you?"

"Not yet, I was going to call them after my treatment, but then I had to stay here and I didn't get around to it."

"Well, we'll deal with that in the morning. The main thing is you're safe now. It's late, I've booked into a hotel for tonight and then we can sort things out tomorrow."

"I'm glad you're here," Jackson looked at Aaron fondly.

"Where else would I be? You know you mean everything to me. I just wish I'd been able to protect you from that..."

Jackson could see the anguished look in Aaron's eyes, "Hey! Don't fret babe, I'll be safe in here and you're close by. I'll sleep soundly in my bed here tonight...it will be a more comfortable night than I had last night."

Aaron had a face like thunder, "Just you wait until I get hold of that scum..."

Jackson cut his husband short, "Aaron! Promise me you won't do anything stupid! I don't want you to get involved: we'll let the police handle O'Riordan. He'll be back inside when they know what he's done."

Aaron did not answer, a plan was already forming in his mind and it didn't have anything to do with the police!

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After spending the night in his hotel, Aaron went straight round to the venue where Jackson had given his speech to ask them which cab firm they always used. Then, he went to the taxi offices to try to track down Dean O'Riordan. However, he realised that it would be a difficult task when the cab office personnel refused point blank to give out any information about Dean O'Riordan's personal details. However, he then had a stroke of luck. As he was leaving the offices, he saw O'Riordan pulling up onto the rank outside in his taxi. He approached him as he climbed out of his cab. Without a word, Aaron aimed a punch at O'Riordan, who fell and lay sprawled on the pavement.

"That's for kidnapping my husband!" Aaron shouted at the top of his voice, "You come anywhere near him again and I'll kill you, you bastard!"

O'Riordan shook his head as if to try to clear it and felt his jaw with his hand.

The cab office manager, who had left the cab office just behind Aaron, had witnessed the whole scene.

"What the hell is going on?" the cab manager asked.

"Ask him...the low-life little toe-rag!" Aaron scowled as he walked away.


	4. Chapter 4

Arise, Sir Jackson – Chapter 4

_-O-_

_DISCLAIMER: I am not connected to Emmerdale and its characters, which belong to ITV_

_-O-_

"You did WHAT?" Jackson was dumbfounded, "I told you I'd report O'Riordan to the police today! Why did you have to go and do a stupid thing like that?"

"I wanted to warn him off," Aaron spoke about the incident as if it was no big deal, "He deserved a good smack, the little shit!"

"But," Jackson was dressed, ready to leave the hospital, "Now O'Riordan can do you for assault! You've just gone and made things ten times worse!"

"I don't care!" Aaron scowled, "He had it coming. Anyway, it was only one punch...he went down like a sack of spuds...SPLAT!" Aaron had a smirk on his face that his husband knew so well.

Jackson was not in a good mood now, "What am I going to do with you? You never change, do you?" he raised his eyebrows and gave his husband his best disdainful look, "We'll just have to hope that O'Riordan thinks twice about pressing charges."

"He'll be in enough trouble when you tell the police what he did to you," Aaron still did not seem concerned that he had assaulted O'Riordan, "He'll be banged up again."

"So will you be if you're not careful," Jackson tutted, "...and then where will we be?"

Aaron did not answer. His actions had made him feel better, but he knew that Jackson was right on this occasion, as he always was.

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Back at Home Farm, Brett looked at his mobile phone in disbelief, "Oh my God!" he gasped.

"What's wrong, babe?" Mason wore a worried frown.

"I've had a text from Aaron, he says Jackson was kidnapped again by that maniac Dean O'Riordan."

"Oh my God!" Mason repeated Brett's exclamation, "Have they found him? Is he alright?"

"Yeah, he's OK, thank the lord. Aaron said he escaped from the place where O'Riordan had been holding him."

"I thought O'Riordan was still locked up," Mason said.

"He must have been released...it's been a few years now since he got sent down," Brett paused for thought, "We'll have to go and call in on them at their hotel when we go down to London tomorrow."

"Just as well we are going to the TV studios down there, so we'll be in the capital."

Brett embraced his husband, "We'd have gone anyway, to give Aaron and Jackson our support," Brett looked pale, "This has really shaken me up!"

"Me too," Mason replied, "Who'd have thought that O'Riordan would have the nerve to kidnap our Jackson a second time."

"He's just a complete nutter, that bloke," Brett said, with feeling.

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Aaron and Jackson reported O'Riordan's kidnapping to the police and then went shopping in Oxford Street, before making their way back to the hotel where Aaron had spent the previous night. The police had asked where Jackson would be staying so they gave the hotel address and decided to stay in London for a couple of days as neither of them had to rush back to Yorkshire in a hurry and Jackson had booked to see a West End show while they were in town.

However, events were about to take an unwelcome turn. The next morning, just after Aaron and Jackson had dressed ready to go down to breakfast, there was a knock on the door and, when Jackson opened it, two police officers were standing there. The couple invited the officers to sit on a sofa in their hotel suite.

"Mr Livesy-Walsh," one of the policemen, a dark-haired man of about thirty years of age, addressed Aaron, "We've had a report that you assaulted Mr O'Riordan yesterday morning at his place of work."

"Oh, here we go," Aaron moaned, "I suppose he wants to press charges?"

"Not exactly," the policeman replied, "He can't very well do that, he's dead!"

Shock was not the word for the look on Aaron's and Jackson's faces.

"DEAD?" Aaron could not believe it, "How can he be dead? He looked fine to me yesterday."

"So," the policeman continued, "You don't know how Mr O'Riordan died?"

"Of course I don't," Aaron replied.

"Would it surprise you to know that the manager of the taxi firm witnessed the assault and claims that you said to Mr O'Riordan," the officer looked down at his notebook, "and I quote, 'I'll kill you, you bastard'."

Aaron looked shocked, "Yeah, but it's just a figure of speech, isn't it? It doesn't mean I'd actually kill him!"

"Look officer," Jackson butted in, "I know Aaron was wrong to assault O'Riordan, but he only did that because the bloke had kidnapped me and he was upset about it."

"I'm aware of that, Sir Jackson," the officer replied, "but we'll have to investigate the case, it's our job. We now have a murder enquiry on our hands."

"But," Jackson spoke again, "You can't think that Aaron killed him, can you?"

"That's not for me to say," the officer stood up to leave, along with his colleague, "Please be available for further questioning, we need to get to the bottom of this case."

Aaron sat on his chair, his face was ashen, "I only punched him, Jackson. That couldn't have killed him, could it?"

"The police didn't say how he died, so it's no good getting stressed about it. Maybe we'll find out more the next time they call."

Aaron took some comfort from his husband's words, but deep down he knew that he had managed to get himself into trouble again.

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The next day, Brett and Mason arrived at the hotel. They had booked into the same one as Aaron and Jackson, as they wanted to give their support to their best friends as always. Aaron had told them about O'Riordan's death and they were relieved that the madman could not get to Jackson anymore, but they were also concerned for Aaron as he was beating himself up over his assault on the maniac.

A knock on the door heralded the return of the police. They stood inside Aaron and Jackson's suite.

The same officer that had called the previous day looked at Aaron steadily and spoke, "Could you tell us your whereabouts on the afternoon that Mr O'Riordan died?"

"I was shopping in Oxford Street with Jackson," Aaron answered, confidently, "In the morning, we left the hospital where he had spent the night and then reported O'Riordan's wrongdoings to your lot, then went shopping."

"Can anyone verify that?"

"I can," Jackson cut in, "That's exactly what happened."

"Have you any proof of this?" the policeman asked.

"I'm a knight of the realm," Jackson answered again, "Isn't my word good enough?"

The police officer smirked, "You may hold a high office, Sir Jackson, but, unfortunately, we need proof of what you say. Did anyone else see you that afternoon or can anyone give you a cast iron alibi?"

Aaron was becoming agitated, "No, but it's the truth though, we _were_ out shopping. I can give you the receipts from the stores we visited."

The police officer seemed unimpressed, "Do they show your payment card details?"

Aaron thought about it, "Well, no...Jackson used _his_ card."

"Then the receipts don't prove that you were there in person. For all we know, Sir Jackson could have been shopping alone."

"He wasn't on his own," Aaron protested, "I was with him all the time."

The police officer held Aaron's gaze, "Aaron Livesy-Walsh, I'm arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Dean O'Riordan."

Jackson nearly collapsed from the shock, "WHAT? No! This isn't right! Aaron's not a killer!"

After reading him his rights, the officers lead Aaron away. He was devastated, as was Jackson.

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Brett had to attend his appointment at the TV studios, but Mason sat with Jackson at the police station, anxiously awaiting news of Aaron. Mercifully, they did not have to wait too long, as after a couple of hours a smiling Aaron appeared. He fell into Jackson's embrace.

"Have they released you?" Jackson asked.

"Or have you given them the slip?" Mason always had a sarcastic quip for most occasions.

"They've let me go, seems they came across some CCTV footage from one of the stores we were in: and that proves that we were telling the truth about our shopping trip. It seems O'Riordan was fatally stabbed in his taxi but the CCTV puts me somewhere else at the same time, so I'm in the clear!"

"So, he was stabbed, was he?" Mason looked at Aaron with relief in his eyes.

"Yeah, seems some hard nuts that he met in prison were after him: he had got involved in some drug trafficking and he had made a few enemies. Looks like someone was after him that night he kidnapped you," he looked at his husband warmly, "I suppose he had to make a quick getaway and that's probably why he didn't come back to the warehouse."

"You seem to know a lot about what went on," Jackson observed.

"Well, once the police realised that I wasn't the killer, they opened up a bit about O'Riordan's background. I think they'd found out a bit more about him since they arrested me. Oh...and they're not going to press charges about the assault, I expect they've got more urgent matters to deal with now, trying to find the murderer."

Once Brett had finished at the TV studios, the four friends all returned home together. They held a party to celebrate Aaron's release and, during the evening, Brett took Jackson to one side, "I'm pleased that O'Riordan is out of your life for good now and I'm so glad that Aaron didn't have to go to court."

"Thanks, mate," Jackson smiled at his friend, "I was thinking we'd have to make use of Amir's super-powers again!"

"Yeah, the Sultan's legal team have got us out of a few scrapes, haven't they?"

"I'll say," Jackson looked pensive, "Have you heard any more about adopting Joel?"

"No...the adoption people are still dragging their feet. I think I need some friends in high places myself, to put in a good word for me and Mason."

Jackson did not answer, but Brett's statement had set the cogs turning in his brain.

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A week later, Brett and Mason were ecstatic. They had finally been told that they were being allowed to adopt Joel. They visited the orphanage with Aaron, Jackson and Jaron.

Brett stooped down to talk to Joel, "Would you like to come to live with me and Mason, sweetheart?" he asked.

Joel's lovely little face beamed and he held out his arms to Brett for a cuddle.

"I think you've got your answer," Jackson said, grinning all over his face.

Brett let go of Joel so that Mason could hug him. Brett then embraced Jackson, "I can't thank you enough!"

"Why are you thanking me?" Jackson looked bemused.

"It was your input with the adoption people which clinched the deal in the end. I guess we do have friends in high places after all."

"We've been friends a long time and, if my being a 'Sir' can work to your advantage, I'm only too happy to pull a few strings for you."

Mason stood up after hugging his new son and then pulled Jackson into a hug, "Thanks!" he said, simply.

Later, as Brett and Mason collected Joel and his few belongings, Aaron, Jackson and Jaron looked on with smiles plastered all over their faces.

Aaron turned to look at Jackson with a grin, "That was a really good thing you did for our friends, I'm very proud of you, you know. I wish I could be like you, but I always have to go and lash out when something goes wrong."

"I don't agree with what you did, babe, but I know _why_ you did it. In a way, I'm touched that you would stick up for me like that," Jackson smiled back at his ever-loving.

"Of course I would! You...and Jaron, are my world. I'd do anything to keep you both safe...anything."

"I know...and the same goes for me too. We've got each other and our son and now it looks like Brett and Mason are about to discover the joys of parenthood too."

"If I had a sword with me now, I'd dub you 'Lord of Happy Endings', arise Sir Jackson," Aaron waved a pretend sword in the air.

Jackson just smiled, to have made his friends so happy meant the world to him...but to have Aaron's love was the best thing in the world by far.

THE END


End file.
